


Hour to Hour, Note to Note

by Marcy (KnightofSpace)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Love Simon, M/M, simon vs the homosapiens agenda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-04 01:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14009061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightofSpace/pseuds/Marcy
Summary: Hunk tells Lance about a post from a closeted gay kid on the schools tumblr one night. Lance is closeted as well and immediately goes to check it out. But now that Lance has found someone just like him, he can't let them go. He creates an email address and invites the anonymous poster to exchange emails with him. So you can see why it's crucial that no one know about these emails. But if someone were to find out...what would Lance do? Based off of Simon vs the Homosapiens Agenda storyline and my own first gay love story. It's like a mash up lmao. But still owe the credit to svtha so...





	1. Where the sky meets the sea

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!!! I'm sure everyone or...mostly everyone? has seen love, simon already. I hope everyone loved it and im super glad that we have finally gotten something like that. I finished reading the book a few weeks ago and was inspired to finally write the story i think ive been waiting to write? like...since i ever started writing fan fiction. The story of svtha is very very close to my first gay love story. i related to that book a little too much it would honestly bring back intense memories while I was reading it. But that made it that much more special to me. I wanted to finally write a story that I knew inside and out. Because if i know one thing, its the love that can develop from exchanging precious messages with someone through a screen. Just know that when I write this, it not only comes from the amazing book that is simon vs the homosapiens agenda but also from my own experiences and my own feelings and my own thoughts from when i went through the same thing.  
> anyway thank good bye (translations for words in other languages are at the bottom)

“Ugh Huuuuuuunkkkk just help me pleeeeeeeeaseee!” I’ve been pleading on the phone with hunk to help me with my homework for the past half hour. So far it hasn’t been going well. Usually it’s me, whining and trying my best to convince him to give me a hint. Hunk’s response is always something encouraging about how I’m more capable of what I think I am. And sometimes we slip into an entirely different conversation. Of course, I always come back with the whining.

  
“Lance! You can do it! Cmon. It’s just numbers! Just take your time and you’ll definitely get it right! Cmon man, I’ve seen your math grades! They’re pretty good!” Hunk is the bestest friend I could ever ask for. He’s so nice and sweet. I don’t deserve him.  
“Hunk cmoooooooooonnnn. There’s just SO MUCH NUMBERS. You know how too many of one thing overrides my brain. I look down at the paper and all I see is 50 numbers, an overwhelming amount of words, and a HUGE space under the question, because we ‘have to show our work or else we FAIL”.

  
I did an impression of Iverson that made Hunk laugh on the other end of the phone.

  
Iverson is obviously my teacher. He’s pretty well known for being a huge douche. Seriously, nobody likes him. Or at least any SANE person doesn’t like him. He’s rude and he only thinks about himself!

  
Iverson is one of those coach teacher guys. You know, he coaches a sports team at school but also is a teacher? Which is ridiculous because nobody needs to be seeing that guy TWICE a day.

 

One time, he stopped soccer practice just to get in my face and tell me that the only reason I placed on the team was because our star player, KEITH got kicked out due to “discipline issues”.

  
At the time, I held my ground and kept it together for practice but if I’m telling the truth…his words really hurt me. They made me wonder if I was good enough for the soccer team at all. And of course, they drove the stake of Keith’s perfectness and my uselessness further into my heart. I’m not even sure I can get it out anymore. I hate that guy.

  
And that’s why I hate Iverson and every other sane person should also hate Iverson.

  
I’d love to know who gave him the bruised black eye that didn’t go away for what seemed like months.

  
They’re my hero.

  
“Lance, I’m sorry buddy, but I helped you with your math homework last time! I can’t just do all your math homework for you. What kind of friend would I be? I would be blocking your ability to blossom! You could be the next great mathematical mind! I can’t stand in your way. Go. Be Great.”

  
This time it was my turn to laugh.

  
“Are you seriously quoting Shiro right now?” I asked him through a quiet giggle.

  
“Hey, man. If Shiro’s words can’t motivate you to do your math homework on your own, I don’t know WHAT will. That guy’s like your hero right?”

  
Of course Hunk knows that Shiro is my hero. Shiro is…amazing. His full name is Takashi Shirogane. He’s this brilliant guy that went to our high school. His picture is up in the library (in a huge frame) above a small metal plate that says “Takashi Shirogane” with a bunch of info on the ranks he got to in NASA. He seriously set a lot of records for a guy his age.

  
I mean he got the opportunity to go to space at the age of 25! He was top of his class and he’s the first Japanese-American to go to space! Not to mention he’s now the youngest and first Japanese-American to go to MARS! He’s so cool too. He’s got this deep voice that sounds all powerful and professional. And he’s in all the textbooks as this history maker and- and- I would do anything to meet him. I want to be just like him.  
Smart. Powerful. Good looking. History maker.

  
They’re set to go off on the first real mission to Mars in about a year or so. The whole word is watching it happen, and I can’t wait to see the lift off.  
I hear Hunk making sounds with his mouth on the other end of the phone. They’re annoying sounds and they’re bored sounds. I bet he’s just staring up at the ceiling and talking to me. Probably because he’s already got all his homework done since he’s a literal GENIUS.

  
I quickly get back into the conversation.

  
“Seriously though Hunk please help me.” I made sure my voice sounded serious and low, for dramatic effect.

  
The mouth sounds stopped. “Aw man, Shiro’s wise words didn’t work?”

  
“As inspiring as this poster of him above my computer is…no. Not really. Come ONNN Hunk just give me some hints I promise, if anything you’ll be helping me grow! I mean-“

  
“Hold on-wait wait wait wait wait wait. Pidge is texting me something…what? She says someone just posted on the schools tumblr that they’re gay and closeted and it’s like blowing up right now. I wonder who it is. Maybe it’s Rolo. Actually, you know what, I bet it’s Rolo.”

  
Pidge is like super chismosa and she loves reading the GGHS tumblr blog. I mean really, it’s like she digs up people’s lives from that thing. It’s crazy! I don’t know how she does it. I guess she really likes to guess who’s written what post anonymously or something. It’s like some game she plays at school.

  
But Pidge’s obsession with the tumblr gossip girl blog isn’t important here.

 

The silence between Hunk and I is.

  
Who am I kidding? The silence is only coming from my end of the phone. On Hunk’s end I can hear what sounds like pages turning and paper crumbling. He pauses every now and then to mention something about Rolo that makes him seem like a good candidate for the writer of the post. He brings up all these super detailed points that I never even considered to think about another person. I was reminded just how much Hunk’s big brain can pick up on in such a short amount of time.  
I don’t say anything. Hunk is a really good friend of mine. Hunk is a very good friend of mine. We’ve been friends since we were kids. He knows me. I know him. He knows my family. I know his family. Our mom’s chat on the phone just like we do! He’s practically my third brother.

  
But…he doesn’t know this one thing about me. He doesn’t know that I think I may possibly also like boys.

  
I mean he knows I’ve had a million crushes on girls, most notably Allura, but I’ve never been able to find the courage to tell him about the small boy crushes I’ve had. The ones that have been an entirely new experience for me. The ones that made me feel…alone.

  
I guess I was just scared that they weren’t real or something. People always say bisexual people have to choose. That bisexual people aren’t real. That they’re lying when they say they’re attracted to both genders, and eventually they’ll end up straight or they’ll end up gay but I don’t think that’s gonna happen to me.

  
I’m pretty sure I’m bisexual.

  
And…I don’t know, it’s just scary to think of what it would mean if he suddenly found out that I’m not who I always was. Even though I’m sure Hunk would be completely accepting of it, the problem lies with me. I don’t want everything that we’ve always been to completely change. I don’t want to abandon who I once was. And I feel like if I come out to people I’ve known for years…for my whole life…it’ll be like saying goodbye to our old relationship.

  
Being Latino doesn’t really help with the fear either since Latino culture is very…straight.

  
I wonder what my brothers would think. My sister? My mom? My abuelita? It’s scary. I want to think they would be totally accepting because they’re so sweet and they love me but there’s just that knowledge of all the straightness expected of you in a Latino family.

  
I don’t want to let them down.

  
I figured I would just pass as straight for the time being and if I fall in love with a girl and have kids, hey, I never have to come out! But if I fall in love with a boy? Now that stresses me out to think about. Just because I’d have to tell my mom…my abuela…my siblings…

 

“Lance?” Hunk’s projected voice comes through the speaker of my phone.

  
I completely forgot Hunk was on the phone and I completely forgot I was doing math homework.

  
“Oh uh…that sucks.” I finally say. “That it’s blowing up. He probably wanted it to be an innocent confession post.”

  
“Well you know, ‘blowing up’ on the school tumblr usually means like max 20 notes.” Hunk laughs. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

  
“Yeah…” I say back. I can’t help it, I’m really caught off guard here. The wheels in my head are turning and I’m distracting myself with my own thoughts.

  
“Uh…you okay dude?” Hunk’s voice raised in pitched just slightly for that question. “You seem a little quiet. Oh are you focusing on your math homework? Don’t even worry about it just don’t say anything if you’re focusing on your math homework.”  
“Yeeeeeeah, I’m trying really hard to focus on this one problem. Sorry, man. I’ll see you tomorrow at school, ok?” I silently thank the heavens that Hunk gave me a way to leave the conversation normally.

  
“Yes! You’re gonna do great! Ok. Well, I’m gonna go downstairs. My mom wants me to make a pizza for dinner, she’s already cutting the ham and the pineapples. See ya later Lance! I hope you do well on your homework!  
We both hang up. Hunk is racing down to the kitchen to have a nice evening of cooking with his mom, I’m sure. Not a care in the world. I, on the other hand, am opening up my laptop and typing in the URL for the schools tumblr.  
The page finally loads and I scroll down. There’s a few posts about school events coming up and volunteering, some pictures uploaded from the cheer team, and there it is.

  
The post.

* * *

**Post submitted By Anonymous:** “being a closeted gay kid in high school makes me feel so exposed…yet so…hidden. nobody thinks im gay. nobody even imagines it. but i see my identity everywhere. i feel like im entirely vulnerable to every offensive gay joke that leaves anyones mouth.

  
its being unable to react when asked if you think some girl is hot or not. its seeing a cute guy and thinking that he felt the same spark you did, only to find out…he didnt. and not being able to ask or address that issue with anyone but yourself.  
its not seeing yourself in the heteronormative words of all your peers and of all your favorite movies and love songs. its having to repeat ‘no I dont have a girlfriend’ every month at dinner with your family.

  
i feel like ive put myself out on a stage, while wearing a mask, and now have to take as many hits as I can. and the only way to stop the hits is to come out.

  
and that’s so fucked up. because when i hear a passive offensive gay joke, i dont say anything. Even though the words are fighting to come out of my mouth. i just…try my best to pretend that it didnt pierce through my heart. i might shut myself out…or lash out in a small way. a quiet way. but then i’ll move on with my life.

  
straight people dont see that. they dont see my identity everywhere like i do. they dont think about the experience of gay people every day like i do. they dont even have to consider those things. its not fair.

  
we all have so much more to us than what other people can see. its like…you could know that your friend always twiddles their pencil in their fingers when theyre troubled but you could never know what’s going on in their head-what theyre thinking of. whats troubling them.

  
why should i have to come out to make the hits stop? Why cant people just understand that we arent all what we seem. why cant people just stop and consider that any one of their friends could be something they would never expect...that their friends could the punchline of their ‘innocent’ joke. that their friends could be gay.”

* * *

The post currently has 30 notes. So this really is blowing up for the schools tumblr.

  
I sit back and stare at the post for a few minutes, just taking it in.

  
I almost cry.

  
It isn’t all relatable. I don’t feel uneasy lying about having a girlfriend. I don’t have to lie to my friends when they ask me if I think a girl is hot or not.

  
But in a way, I feel validated. I feel like I have company. Like I have a silent friend that can relate to a closeted experience.

  
and hes right. why should we have to come out. why should your friend or your son or your brother or anyone you know coming out as gay be the deciding factor for you to stop being passively homophobic? Or even transphobic.  
I have to know him.

  
I open up a new tab and type ‘gmail’ into the search bar. It takes me to the email I’m currently logged in with but I log out and choose to make a new one.

  
I love the ocean, everyone knows that about me. I live on the BEACH. The ocean is my world. When I was younger, my family and I spent all of our free time hanging out down by the beach in Cuba. Veradero Beach. My home.

  
It was something that was a precious past time for us in Cuba, and some of my greatest memories exist there. When we moved out to the U.S., the beach helped in keeping that connection alive.

  
Hunk and I go down to the beach every now and then when we’re feeling homesick and it never fails to calm us down. The sand and the ocean are our outlets and they’re who we are.

  
So yeah, the ocean, the beach, rain, all of it. I absolutely love it.

  
But I also love the stars and the sky. The idea that there’s worlds out there that nobody on earth has ever seen. Entire galaxies, planets, and unknowns that we have yet to discover. Alternate realities. Even just Mars. It’s so fascinating.  
I love the two big unknowns of the world, with all my heart. I want to explore them someday. So only one thing seemed appropriate for this email name.

  
wheretheskymeetsthesea@gmail.com

  
Moana was a great movie. I was crying in the theater holding onto Hunk’s shirt and I do not regret one second of it.

  
When I finish typing it in, I’m surprised to see that its available. I thought for sure I would have to add some weird sequence of numbers. Guess it’s my lucky day.

  
I copy the email and click back over to the tumblr with the post on it.

  
Opening the box for replies, I type out:

* * *

User45839218: im just like you. **wheretheskymeetsthesea@gmail.com**

* * *

I stare at it for a second, wondering if I should really do this.

  
And then I do it. I hit send. And my new email sits there as the only small box under replies.

  
I stare at it for a few more minutes and let my mind race. Will he email me? Will he completely ignore it? Was this an impulse post that he never wants to see ever again? Who is he?

  
It gets late and my eyes start to feel heavy. I close my laptop and then my textbook, making sure to stack them on top of each other. I grab my homework and line it up neatly before I get up to go brush my teeth.  
The whole time I’m getting ready for bed I’m thinking about my new email. I’m wondering if he’s seen my reply yet.

  
I’m thinking about his post.

  
I turn off the lights, land down onto the soft covers of my bed, and slowly fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:   
> Chismosa - gossiper (the english word...doesnt hold the same weight the spanish word does though...)


	2. Rough around the edges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith’s perspective. He gets in fights, he has an amazing brother, he’s closeted. He’s alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations in end notes.

A sigh was the only thing I heard in the coldest room that ever existed.

I was looking down at the carpet the whole time, trying to ignore the pain in my lip.

Nothing else hurt. Well, it did. But not like my lip. I could feel it splitting where Sean punched me in the mouth.

I knew what was coming. This wasn’t my first time in the principal’s office. We might as well be after school buddies at this rate. 

I  _ knew _ what was coming. So I closed my eyes, leaned back, and tried to focus on not feeling the pain in my lip.

“Keith. How many times are we gonna do this?” Every time she said it sounded like the first time.

I wonder how she did that. She’s said this line to me a million times. Every time I come in here. It doesn’t change much.

“This is the 3rd time  _ this week. _ I can’t keep saving you from suspension and expulsion.”

_ Ugh. _

“Then maybe you should call Sean in here for once. Maybe you should actually do something to stop your homophobic transphobic racist student from making homophobic transphobic racist remarks.”

She’s quiet.

I look straight into her eyes as I say it. She knows. She knows she’s wrong for never penalizing Sean. Only me. It’s always my fault.

I just so happen to hit harder. And am less controlled. And have an incredibly successful older brother to live up to.

Her chair squeaked as she leaned back and another sigh broke through the silence of the room.

I could hear the air conditioners low hum and the sound of the printer printing multiple copies of paper  in the other room.

The harshness of my breathing was running in the background of it all. Traveling through all my veins.

It was still really cold.

“Keith…Robert has said multiple times that he isn’t asking for your help with Sean. Robert is better than that, he knows he can overcome the nasty comments Sean makes towards him.”

“That’s not the- the point.” My emotions were overcoming me and making my voice project louder.

“He shouldn’t have to! He shouldn’t have to just ‘deal with it’ and ‘overcome’ someone’s homophobic comments. The homophobic comments should just stop. Your students shouldn’t have to be fighting their identity battles by themselves. I mean isn’t that the point of school? The point of teachers? The point of principals? To be there to support all your students as they grow into young adults of the future?”

I was sitting on the edge of my seat now. I could feel every inch of my body heating up and all I could hear was my own projected voice.

“Do you even  _ care  _ that he says passively racist stuff to me in history? Do you even care that he’s made transphobic remarks towards Pidge?”

My heart was beating as fast as it was just an hour ago when I was in a fight.

“Or is this just a paycheck for you?”

“Keith!”

She seemed offended. I thought that was funny. She should just overcome my rude comments. She should know not to engage me.

“I have given you  _ many _ chances because I know how great of a student your brother was. But I am starting to notice the gap between Takashi Shirogane and you, Keith. If you can’t stop getting in fights then I’m not going to have much of a choice. Don’t disappoint your brother. He wants nothing more than for you to succeed.”

_ Shiro. _

“Guess we’ll never know because he hasn’t been watching me grow up.”

I grab my backpack from the floor and quickly turn for the door.

She doesn’t say anything to stop me, her chair just squeaks again as she leans back. 

Of course it does.

She doesn’t actually believe I won’t be back here next week.

She’s already wording her speech for Monday.

I start making my way through the colorful hallways of the school. No one else is out. There are quiet hums of voices beyond doors as I pass them. The atmosphere is kind of relaxing.

I can't believe she brought Shiro up again. I only have a few weaknesses and Shiro is definitely one of them. Shiro has done so much for me. Shiro has taught me and guided me through so much of my life. I couldn't ask for a more amazing brother. He isn't my real brother, though. His family was kind enough to take me in when I was younger. And ever since, we’ve thought of each other as brothers.

So, instead of leaving me to the state in the orphanage I was taken to, Shiro convinced his parents to adopt me.

Shiro had  _ always _ been my older brother. I feel like we were meant to meet in this way and we were meant to be brothers. I couldn't imagine my life without him.

The house feels so empty without him though. He’s out in Houston working wonders with NASA and preparing for his mission to Mars. and who knows where else.

Training to go into space takes  _ years _ . It could take 3 or more years to train for just  _ one _ mission. And Shiro’s so amazing...he’s signed up for multiple missions. I don’t know when he’ll back.

He’s been gone for years already. Last time I talked to him he said they only had about a year and a half to two more years of training before the mission to Mars would begin.

Which is predicted to take about 3 months to reach. That's 6 months that he won't be here. On Earth. That’s half a year.

It just feels different walking through life without his guidance. I feel really...alone.

Talking to him via skype calls every month just isn't enough. I wish he was here to help me through everything and teach me how to handle things.

Most people don't know Shiro and I are brothers, though. I’m sure Shiro contacted the school and told them to take care of me and “give me some time”. There’s no way I shouldn't be expelled right now.

I finally head down the hall toward the second floor. I’m not that late. It’s only about 10 minutes. Hopefully it won’t be that weird when I walk in late. Hopefully they haven’t even started yet.

I remembered the pain in my lip and let my tongue rest on the cut. It stung at first but started to feel better after a few seconds.

The entire situation that just happened keeps replaying in my head as I’m climbing up the flight of stairs in the middle of the senior halls.

When I finally reach the top, I remember.

_ Shit. _

I forgot to bring a slip from the principal’s office.

_ Fuck. _

I continue on the way to algebra anyway.

* * *

The feeling of all eyes on you. It sucks. It really sucks.

Everyone is watching me as I enter the classroom late. They all look away from Iverson and look at me. They look me up and down, analyzing every little thing about me. Trying to figure out why I'm late.

God, why do they care.

I try to head to my seat as quickly as I can before Iverson remembers to ask about a pass.

Of course that doesn't work.

“Where is your pass, Yeun?”

He pronounced it wrong. Again.

“It’s Yuh-n.” I say. No matter how many times I have to say it to this man.

“Where is your pass?” He repeats.

There's a silence in the room and a battle in my head. I want to tell him off so badly.

I want to ask him why he has to be such a hard ass. I want to ask him what his problem is. I want to correct him again and make him say my name correctly.

“I forgot to get one.” I say as calmly as I can.

“From who?” He says.

Great. I have to announce to the whole class that I was just sitting in the principal's office. A few eyes in the room have already noticed the cut on my lips and the bruising around my face.

Everyones gonna know.

I’m silent for a few seconds. I don't want to answer. It’s not fair.

He’s only doing this because I kicked a soccer ball into his eye a while back.

That’s what got me kicked off the team.

I was going through a hard time without shiro being here. My performance on the team was weakening and he didn't like that. He said some stuff about Shiro. He said some stuff about me. I got mad. I lashed out.

The black eye is still there. I don't regret it at all. In fact, I'm proud to say I was the one who gave Iverson the ever-lasting black eye.

Only the ones on the team at the time know it was me who did it. And they’ve never ratted me out.

Shows how much people hate Iverson.

Finally, with all eyes still on me, I give in.

“The principal's office.”

I can feel my fists tightening.

Iverson laughs. Like he knew what the answer would be. “Of course. You don't need a pass for that. I believe you.”

My fists we're almost shaking now. I shut my eyes tight and turned toward the desks, just trying to get to my desk as quickly as possible.

“Oooooo!”

I looked over to who made the sound and saw him in the corner.

Lance.

I took a second to stare at him, confused.

I don't even know him really but he constantly is making comments on what I do. negative comments.

Who knows what's up with him.

I know he was on the soccer team when I was on the soccer team. But he never got to play. He was always on the bench.

I wonder why he always reacts to things I do.

It’s probably not worth getting to know him though.

“Lance” Iverson starts. “Be quiet. Class is still in session.”

I look over to see Lance’s reaction. He just quietly sinks down and grabs his pencil. He fiddles with it and he stares at it the whole time.

I wonder what he’s thinking.

* * *

“ただいま~.”

I yell it out so my voice reaches every corner of the house.

I know I’m not Japanese. I know that.

I know my birth parents were Korean and...something else. I’m still not entirely sure what that other thing is…

But Shiro and our parents are Japanese. So, for the most part, I was raised Japanese.

And of course, that means I have a fairly good grasp on the Japanese language.

It sucks to not feel the connection to my Korean culture and to be completely unaware of the other side of me...

I’ve done my share to learn more about korean culture and to even learn the language...I just don’t really have anyone to share it with.

That’s the part that hurts.

Our parents mean well enough though. It’s not their fault they aren’t Korean.

And for the record, they do try to buy me any well recommended Korean learning books. They even offered to enroll me in Korean language and culture classes.

I hear “お帰り！” yelled out from the kitchen.

I slip my shoes off and make my way up the stairs to my room. I’m not in the mood to talk right now.

The food smells nice and i’m sure my mom will come up to get me when she’s done.

* * *

I plop face down on my bed. My lungs slowly fill up with air and quickly release it.

“Aaaaaaaauuuuuuuggghhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!”

It feels good.

I turn my head to the side and look over all the posters on my wall.

Suddenly everything feels...real. It feels incredibly real.

I’m hyper aware of the process thousands of people chip in to just to make a poster.

Who cut the paper? Who loaded the ink? Who rolled it up and packaged it? Mailed it? Priced it?

I have the same thoughts as I look over everything hanging on my wall.

Then I close my eyes. And I’m back. I’m back to when Sean was making homophobic jokes at Robert. I’m back to when Robert rolled his eyes and softly pushed his friends back, letting him know it was time to go. I’m back to feeling so stupid and so helpless because I haven’t come out. I can’t help him without people questioning me. And I’m back to not caring anymore and starting a scene.

I can feel my heart beating faster than ever and I can hear it just as well in my ears.

I turn over so I’m facing my fast turning fan. It wobbles as it spins and spins and spins…

Shiro wants nothing more than for me to succeed, huh?

I’m sorry, Shiro.

I take time to breathe for a few more minutes. Just the sound of my wobbly fan as it spins and pots and pans hitting tables and tiles in the kitchen below.

It’s just so hard. I hate it. I can’t...understand it. Why can’t people just leave gay people alone? gay kids.

Why do we have to come out? Why do I have to feel fear of possibly being found out if I defend a gay kid from bullying? Why can’t people just stop bullying. Why can’t people just... _ listen _ to what comes out of their mouths. It’s not hard!

I have to carry the weight of all the prejudice I see on a daily basis, and i can’t even do anything...without directing that prejudice to me.

It’s not fair.

I wish there was a way. Just one way to let everyone know what it’s like. How ridiculous it is. If we could just...somehow make the feelings public…

It takes me a minute, but I remember something.

Our school has a tumblr. We have a tumblr where people can ask questions and post things anonymously...I could post on there.

I could make a post about how it feels to be gay and closeted. I could make a post that could...change someone's mind...maybe.

It would also be nice to be able to write down how I feel for once. Instead of keeping it in and moving on…

I walk across my room to my computer and shake the mouse a few times to wake it up.

Once chrome opens up I type in the search bar: gghs-secrets.tumblr.com

There’s only a few posts. Mostly school announcements and stuff. What holidays we have off and when new football games are. Or band or whatever.

There’s some submissions from people that needed help with senior projects and info on certain programs.

I wonder who moderates all of this.

I navigate to the submission page and begin typing.

It takes me a while. I’m not entirely sure what the feeling I’m feeling is. I...don’t know exactly how to word it. But I try my best.

* * *

being a closeted gay kid in high school makes me feel so exposed…yet so…hidden. nobody thinks im gay. nobody even imagines it. but i see my identity everywhere. i feel like im entirely vulnerable to every offensive gay joke that leaves anyones mouth.

its being unable to react when asked if you think some girl is hot or not. its seeing a cute guy and thinking that he felt the same spark you did, only to find out…he didnt. and not being able to ask or address that issue with anyone but yourself.

its not seeing yourself in the heteronormative words of all your peers and of all your favorite movies and love songs. its having to repeat ‘no I dont have a girlfriend’ every month at dinner with your family.

i feel like ive put myself out on a stage, while wearing a mask, and now have to take as many hits as I can. and the only way to stop the hits is to come out.

and that’s so fucked up. because when i hear a passive offensive gay joke, i dont say anything. Even though the words are fighting to come out of my mouth. i just…try my best to pretend that it didnt pierce through my heart. i might shut myself out…or lash out in a small way. a quiet way. but then i’ll move on with my life.

straight people dont see that. they dont see my identity everywhere like i do. they dont think about the experience of gay people every day like i do. they dont even have to consider those things. its not fair.

we all have so much more to us than what other people can see. its like…you could know that your friend always twiddles their pencil in their fingers when theyre troubled but you could never know what’s going on in their head-what theyre thinking of. whats troubling them.

why should i have to come out to make the hits stop? Why cant people just understand that we arent all what we seem. why cant people just stop and consider that any one of their friends could be something they would never expect...that their friends could the punchline of their ‘innocent’ joke. that their friends could be gay.|

* * *

I think I reach a good stopping point to my thoughts. I sit back and wonder if this is what I’m really feeling. If I actually was able to capture my feelings accurately for once.

It seems good enough.

I stare at it, wondering if I should really post it.

And just when I hover the mouse over the submit button, a picture of Shiro pops up in the middle of my screen.

There's a chime and a telephone icon that goes along with it.

Shiro is calling me.

I quickly hit the green button and answer his call.

“Keith! Hey!” He says with a big smile.

He’s laying on his bed in a black tank top. The light from his computer makes his teeth shine brighter. He looks great. I’m happy to see him again.

“Hey! Shiro,” I say back.

“How have you been? How are mom and dad? I haven’t had a chance to call them yet...Actually I was just going to ask...could you just pass your laptop to them? You know how they are with computers…”

He brings his hand up to scratch his chin briefly then looks back at me.

I laugh. Our parents are really bad with computers. They don’t want to bother learning the new, they want to stick with the old. I can only imagine the struggle it’s been for Shiro to try to facetime them while he’s away.

“You got it. I’ll pass it to them when we’re done. How have  _ you _ been? What kind of cool stuff are you doing at NASA?” I ask.

“Eh, nothin much. Just training. Eating a lot of astronaut food. The usual. I don’t have a lot of time to do anything, training takes up a bunch of my time. But it’s worth it. I really want this. So I’m gonna work my hardest to make sure nothing goes wrong and we can land safely.”

I hated thinking about that. I hated that there was a chance that Shiro could...die...when they leave. What if the launch isn't successful? What if they can’t find a safe entry and the landing fails? I can’t lose Shiro.

“Don’t say stuff like that. Of course you’re gonna land safely.” I tell him. I want to believe it. I want it to be the undeniable truth.

“Thanks.” He says back. “So tell me about what’s going on in your life! How are your grades? How’s school? How’s...everything?”

“It’s fine. Nothing out of the ordinary here either.” I can’t look him in the eyes when I say it.

“Keith...do you seriously think I can’t see the bruising and the cuts on your face? ...Who busted your lip? That looks painful. What happened?”

He didn’t sound mad. He didn’t even sound disappointed. He sounded...concerned.

I licked my lips again, trying to hide them from Shiro. How could I forget that I was just in a physical fight...and it left marks on my face. I’m such an idiot.

I let out a sigh and take my tongue off of my lips. “I’m sorry, Shiro. I- I know you want me to succeed. I-”

I thought back to what the principal told me and I felt an ache in my heart.

“It was a mistake. I’m...I’m learning to control it. I promise.” I finished.

Shiro was quiet. He still had on a face of concern but he seemed like he was just listening. Like he was waiting for me to let it all out.

But all I could do was look away from the screen.

Shiro finally broke the silence with the softest tone I’d heard from anyone in a long time.

“Keith. Of  _ course _ I want you to succeed. We all do. Me, Mom, Dad. We love you and we want to see you do great things. We want to see you get out of this rut. But don’t feel pressured to be perfect. We don’t want you to be perfect, we want you to be you. The most you you could possibly ever be. And I want you to succeed at being you. I want you to be the  _ best _ at being  _ you _ . Because once that happens, I promise, everything else is going to fall in place.”

I’m quiet. I didn’t expect to hear these words from Shiro today. I didn’t even expect to hear from Shiro today.

There’s a pause of silence. Then Shiro talks again.

“Look, I know you don’t think I know. I know you don’t think mom and dad know. But I can see that you’re struggling lately. I don’t know why. I...have a few guesses...but…” He pauses again.

“I don’t know what you’re going through, Keith. I  _ need _ you to be willing to face it though. In whatever way. If you want to tell me about it, please tell me. I would love to know and I would love to help you through it in whatever way I can. But if you don’t want to tell me? Tell somebody. Please. Don’t carry this huge weight all by yourself. And I can tell it’s huge. Tell me or tell mom or dad or...a friend. Anyone. I don’t want you to have to go through it alone. It’s not fair to have to go through things alone in high school. I promise there is someone out there that is just like you.”

Shiro always knew what to say. Shiro was amazing. No wonder he made it to NASA. I really couldn’t ask for a more amazing brother.

I look back at the screen and meet Shiro’s concerned expression.

“Thanks, Shiro.” I say.

I want to say so much more. I want to tell him that I’m gay and that I figured that out just a little after he left. I want to tell him that I keep getting in fights with a homophobic racist transphobe. I want to tell him that I feel vulnerable. And I want to tell him that I feel alone.

The words won’t come out for some reason. I don’t know why. Maybe my body isn’t ready to say the words “I’m gay” out loud. Maybe I’m not ready for that.

“So how’s the friends coming? Did you get any new ones?” He asked.

“No, not really. All my friends were on the soccer team but I’m not on the soccer team anymore so...I don’t ever see them anymore. And Pidge and I only really talk at school.”

“I still can’t believe you kicked a soccer ball into Iverson’s face. The mark is still there?”

“It’s still there.”

We both laugh.

Shiro stops earlier than I do and sighs with a smile on his face. “I’m so gonna have to apologize to him when I see him again. What did mom and dad say?”

“They apologized about a million times to Iverson. I think Iverson actually became flustered. Of course, they forced me to apologize to him too. Ugh. It was the worst.”

“Hey speaking of, do mom and dad know about this?” He gestured to the cuts and bruises on my face.

“...No. I just came straight up to my room when I got home. Mom’s cooking downstairs so it was easy to slip past her.”

“You should clean it up. It looks really bad...get some bandaids and some ice. But first I’m gonna need you to pass me over to mom and dad...so...they’re totally gonna find out.”

“Let me go wash my face really quick. How about I call you back? It’ll only be a few minutes.”I tell him. I don’t really want to go wash my face. I want to post that post.

After hearing Shiro talk to me about it, I feel like I have to post it. It feels...right.

Shiro couldn’t have called me at a better time. I might have just canceled the post if I didn’t get to hear his words today.

I’m going to tell somebody.

Anonymously…..but...at least I’ll get it out.

“Sure thing! I’ll be waiting!” He said back.

I click the red button and end the call. The window minimizes and I’m face to face with my post again. I click “Submit” and wait as it loads to the next screen.

**Your post has been submitted!** pops up on the screen and I sit back, waiting. I just posted it but I want to know who’s seen it. I want to know what they think of it.

There won’t be an immediate response so I get up to wash my face. It feels nice to run the cold water over the cuts and the bruises.

I run back to my laptop, call Shiro again, and head downstairs to face my parents.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ただいま~: I'm home~  
> お帰り!: Welcome back!

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. i know i havent finished my other fanfictions uh i have no excuse i just forgot about them honestly. i do want to keep writing them but idk if it will be anytime soon that i get to that. im starting to get really busy as i get my life together.


End file.
